


The Hills Have Eyes

by laurelsalexis



Category: Pretty Little Liars
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon Compliant Up Until 7x04, Depression, F/M, Spencer Is A Mess
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-20
Updated: 2017-06-26
Packaged: 2018-05-27 20:42:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 21,105
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6299668
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/laurelsalexis/pseuds/laurelsalexis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There was something therapeutic in talking to him. No pressure...just the two of them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Spencer x Wren fic with a side of attempting to solve the mystery, canon to 7x04ish, updates when I get the inspiration, cherry picking canon because this show is a hot ass mess.

Over the last seven years, Spencer spent too much time wondering exactly where it went wrong. Was it being friends with Alison or was it just the fact that she was born a Hastings? Even before everything went wrong with Alison and she went missing her life wasn’t exactly picture perfect. She took comfort in pills and not much else. She dated Ian of her own free will after he broke up with Melissa, if only for a few weeks, and Melissa continued to hate her mere existence. Her parents treated her unfairly and acted like she was the problem child, which, in hindsight, Spencer  _did_ have to admit that she wasn’t exactly the best child at that time. Usually making some mess or another. Even if she could blame most of it on **A** she was no Melissa Hastings.

Alison seemed to be the only good thing even if she wanted to kill her all at the same time. A reason that she spent so long believing that she could have _actually_ hurt her. If the want was there, the ability had to be, didn’t it? Something that was a lifetime ago. She hadn’t hurt Alison. No, the girl is alive and well only to continue making a mess of her life. It’s not really fair to blame it on Alison but Spencer isn’t always much of a fair person anyhow.

Alison is the reason she’s even in Rosewood to begin with. All so she could get Charlotte out of Welby.  _Charlotte_ of all people. In the five years she’s spent away from the town that is the stuff of all her nightmares she managed to find herself closer with Alison. They share a brother in Jason and as she once said to her it practically made them sisters. Only Jason doesn't agree with the decision to let Charlotte out and Spencer had to be the one to fake it. Always caught in some tangled web of family loyalty when she should have just done what everyone else did and saved her own skin.

Maybe Charlotte wouldn’t be dead and there would not be some mystery person torturing them. **A** all over again just with something of an added initial. The only peace is that it cannot possibly be Charlotte.

Only there is a part of her deep down that knows even if Alison hadn’t asked her back she would still be sitting in her barn trying to clean any evidence off of the floor while she hears the shower running. Maybe not in that exact situation. Her mother would have dragged her back regardless, with her race for the special election so she could be a Senator. She was always destined to be pulled back to Rosewood one way or another. She likes to think she could have survived just being on her own, with _Caleb_ , without all of them being there and falling back into old habits.

None of it matters with the dead body of Rollins haunting her. It’s probably not even cold yet as she does her best to not look as frazzled as she feels. She focuses on everything else. Everything that includes Caleb standing on the other side of the door. It’s over. She’s not stupid. There’s something hopeful inside of her that wishes it isn’t, but it is. It is over the moment he kissed Hanna. For reasons she understands in that way it hurts her and she can’t even manage to pull herself together. The tears fall and it’s only when he’s gone does she manage to swallow everything down. Not that she can look at Hanna in the face. Doesn’t even bother to try as she moves to the bedroom, grabs a jacket, Elliot’s stuff, and grabs her bag before walking towards the door.

The only thing she bothers to tell her as she leaves is to lock up.

She purchases the plane ticket first. The alibi is more important if she’s going to be the one to put his stuff on the train. The airport is loud and bustling with people to which she barely registers they are there. She doesn’t even bother to tell the others what she’s doing or how much she just spent on a one way ticket to London. It’s unfair to them, she knows, but she’ll play her part. Worse comes to worse she just flies back. She’s done it before after Hanna got arrested, before they  _all_ got arrested, for a murder of someone that was _alive_ the entire time.

Elliott Rollins isn’t alive.

She’s careful and feels like she could be **A** the way she’s dressed as she purchases his one way ticket to Baltimore and puts his stuff on the train, stepping off immediately. She looks for the video cameras and does her best to stay out of sight. She prays it works.

There’s no part of her that reconsiders anything as she stands in the airport bathroom looking at herself and trying to make the best of her life decisions. She probably should go home but the ticket is in her hand. It’s too late. On the edge of falling apart she does the only thing she can think of and decides maybe a few days away from everyone and everything would do her some good. Her friends will kill her.

At the very least it buys her an alibi for where she is on the night he went missing. The question of why she goes to London, if anyone asks, isn’t all that important.

It is a mix of things in all honesty. It isn’t _just_ Caleb or Hanna. It isn’t _just_ the fact that she just buried a body and has that fresh on her mind as she looks at her reflection. It isn’t _just_ **A.D.** torturing them all over again. It is a damning mixture of everything and it leads her to make certain choices she probably wouldn’t have made if she is in a right state of mind. But she isn’t in the right state of mind. Everything's fallen beneath her feet and she has no direction and clue where to go. She just knows she needs to go somewhere, even if just for a few nights. To break free of everything and everyone. To have a few moments to pretend that she isn’t Spencer Hastings anymore.

That sends her back to a time in which being anything except Spencer Hastings is the  _one_ thing she desperately wished for. She doesn't want to go back to her sixteen year old self but like Emily said...they all managed to fall back into old habits.

Old habits are impossible to break when everything is almost exactly like it is when they were sixteen, only Spencer has a degree from Georgetown added to her name. That degree doesn’t seem to help all that much. Not when her day to day life has little to do with how much education any of them had. They are playing the same game they did when in high school and it’s doing more damage than ever before.

She lets out a shaky breath as she looks at herself in the mirror. Her attempt to fix her hair and makeup to make her look a bit more put together is no use. The reflection is harsh, the bathroom lights are harsher, and she swears she looks so much older than her twenty three years.

Twenty three and she feels as if she lived a million lifetimes. The drink she has before getting on the plane manages to calm her nerves a little. She’s usually a happier drunk, one that is lively, loving, and the opposite of how she usually is. Only everything is so dark that it doesn’t do much for her.

By the time she actually makes it to her destination the sun is high in the sky and the little alcohol she had is long gone from her system. When she turns her phone on she sees a barrage of texts from everyone. She returns them by telling them she’s fine and her cover is solid. No one can think she murdered someone if she’s seen in the airport. Being on a flight from Philadelphia to London is nothing even Tanner could contest with. They can yell at her when she returns to Rosewood and she deserves every moment of it. Until then...when in Rome.

It doesn’t take long for her to arrive outside of the building she is in search for. It’s the middle of the day and she’s not entirely certain he’ll be home. She’s only been there a grand total of twice and only as she makes her way inside to his door does she realize just how much of a mistake she is making. She isn’t going to turn around. Not when she flew all the way out there and already everyone is already mad at her. If they are going to be pissed off at her when she arrives she’s going to need to have a good excuse for what she did.

It’s only when she raises her hand to knock do the thoughts of what she is doing managed to find her again. It is a bad idea...such a bad idea. She shouldn't have gotten on the plane, but there she is. She can book a flight right back, but the idea of going back to Rosewood or D.C. is worse than anything that awaits her on the other side. _Hopefully._ Only she doesn’t hope because that only burns her. It doesn’t take long for the courage to find her to know. She came that far...what else does she have to lose?

“Please be home. Please be home. Please be home.” Knowing her luck she will end up standing out there like an idiot. "Can I stay here?" Spencer blurts out the second the door opens to reveal a surprised Wren on the other side. She only looks at him with hopeful eyes, a small but awkward smile across her lips.

"Come in." Is all he says as he moves to let her through the door to his flat.

She is glad that he lets her in. Not that she thought he wouldn't. If there is anything she knows about Wren is that he always does whatever she asks. Perhaps she uses that to her advantage by asking to stay with him and she really should have called ahead...before she got on the plane to London, but she was having something of a crying fit. She doesn't want him to see that hear that. She hated crying in front of others.

It isn’t the same place he lived with Melissa and she is thankful she wrote the address down when he told it to her a few months after his breakup with her sister. She looks around and noted how much it looks like a guy lived there. Just enough decoration to not seem like a hotel but not enough touches to know a girl lives there.

"Do you live alone?" She asks to break the silence that found them.

"Flat mate," he tells her, "He'll be back Friday. Ireland."

She places her bag on the table in the kitchen and nods before turning to look at him. It has been quite a while since she last saw Wren and she doesn’t really know what to do or say. So she stays quiet, hands in front of her as she stands awkwardly looking at him. She’s twenty three but with Wren she feels sixteen all over again. In hindsight she really should have come prepared and found herself with a drink...or already drunk. Being drunk around him never lets her filter her thoughts. She can use that.

Or maybe she should have just gone to Melissa's in the first place. It'd be easier to explain the mess she found herself in. Not that her sister would be sympathetic...she is sure of it. Between Ian and Wren there were things she learned were better to never talk about.

"I should go to Melissa's…" She blurts out finally and turned around to grab her things.

"Stay," his accent thick with the word. "Spencer...what's wrong?"

"Nothing." It is a lie. She is a good liar but in that moment she felt like the worst liar around. God, why does he have to say her name like that?

"You flew to London and showed up at the doorstep to my flat, you look upset, and in all my time I've never seen you so nervous. Not even when I kissed you for the first time."

Of course he has to bring that up. "I needed to get out of Rosewood."

He takes a few steps closer to her, closing what already little distance existed. "What happened to Washington?"

"Needed to get out of there, too." Just the thought of going back to her apartment and seeing everywhere Caleb sat or touched or slept is enough to make her want never go back. He is a part of her life for the last three years and is someone that is more than just a friend. Now she wants to be rid of him. If she never sees him again that would be perfectly fine with her. Only she isn't that lucky. "Do you have a drink? I wanna get _pissed_." She says in her best British accent, easily changing the subject.

Wren eyes her carefully before walking over to the tray of liquor she misses, grabbing a bottle of the vodka she likes and walking over to the kitchen. She knows just what he wants to ask and waits for it. It’s Wren. She trusts him. It’s why she’s here and doing her best to keep herself together but so little is working in her favor she doesn’t know how long she’s actually going to be able to keep up the charade.

"See…” she smiles, “you were already prepared for me."

"Yeah, yeah. A ring would have been nice."

"I'll remember that next time...now give me." She doesn’t even want a glass and instead snatches the bottle from his hand, bringing it to her lips and taking a too long swig. It burns but she doesn't care. The bottle is placed down on the counter before she bends down to unzip her boots and tosses them aside, pulling off her jacket next and resting it against the chair. Her black skinny jeans fit the mold of her body perfectly while the rest of her got lost in the over-sized purple plaid shirt she wore with the first few buttons undone to allow the top of her black lace bra to be exposed. She's lying if she says she doesn't do it on purpose.

"Did you have a fight with the hacker? Or have you found your natural way back to the carpenter?"

"The hacker is the hacker. We broke up... _three_ years ago and I've never gone back. Do you actually know their names?" She shrugs it all off and stands up straight again, smiling to herself at the way his eyes were on her. She grabs the bottle once again and brings it to her lips as she lifts herself so she is sitting on the table, directly across from where Wren is leaning against the edge of the counter. "It's a long story no one needs to hear." _Ever_. For the both of them. Sometimes she forgets how well Wren knows her.

She holds the bottle out to Wren who looks at her for a moment before taking it from her and taking a sip.

"I came to Europe after the whole thing. Studied in Spain. Did a ton of stupid things."

"Fall into bed with the wrong bloke?"

She scoffs and drinks as much vodka as she can handle. " _Karma_." She sets the bottle down and just looks at him. He looks good. He _always_ looks good. She hates that. Even as a teenager moments overcame her with how  _hot_ he was. The accent doesn’t hurt either, nor do the dimples. When she is hurting he is the guy he found and why she thinks that is still a good idea years later she doesn’t know. She knows but she won’t admit to that. Instead she just wants to enjoy this...whatever _this_ is. She is tired of hurting and tired of crying. She just wants to feel good. The vodka running through her system helps. Just enough to take the edge off, but not enough to make this a situation like that last time. "Let me fall in with the right one." Spencer hops off the table and closes the distance between her and Wren. She looks up at him and begins to unbutton the rest of her shirt.

"Spencer." He says as he places his hand on her wrists.

"You've wanted to since I was sixteen...or is it the idea of screwing an underage girl that got you all hot and bothered?" She is purposefully trying to rile him up, a glint in her eyes that makes her feel more like the wreck she’s morphed into. " _Ian_ liked that. Remember, Ian? I do."

"Just you." He pauses and allowed his hand to fall away. "But I'm not going to _screw you_ even if you have a delightful way with words."

Nothing he says stops her and she pushes the shirt off of her shoulders, leaving her standing before him in her bra. "Come on, _Oxford_. You never missed a beat when I was suddenly single." Spencer turns away from him and unhooks her bra, allowing for it to fall to the floor just with her shirt. She isn’t as confident as she seems and she feels completely stupid. Hopefully he doesn’t make her put her clothes back on. "You were always so jealous. I could see it." And she loves it. Even back then. He always made her feel wanted when Toby couldn't...and now when Caleb doesn’t want her. That is the hardest thing to deal with. He doesn’t _want her_. It is a thought she swallows so she doesn’t turn into more of a mess.

Spencer leaves him standing in the kitchen, walking over to the window that went from ceiling to floor. It is a beautiful view. "Can anyone see me?" She doesn’t wait for an answer. "Maybe I should go down there and find the first guy who wants me." It would probably take less courage than this does. If her therapist could see her now she'd be judging her use of sex to solve her problems, but Spencer doesn’t care. Being the good girl is no fun and if she is going to be stalked by Charlotte's imitator she might as well give them something to hold over her. She is turning into a self destructive mess. ' _Sex is a drug, too, Spencer._ ' She can clearly hear Hanna's voice in her head, but instead of a smile it brought her anger.

Before she can open her mouth again his arms are wrapped around her torso and his breath hot against her neck. _Victory_. "Do you think they'd want me more than you do?" Her question is softer, more vulnerable than she allows herself to be lately, leaning into his body.

"No one wants you more than I do." Wren whispers into her ear just as his grip around her tightens.

Spencer bites down on her lip and closes her eyes. Just being in his arms feels good, gave her something she needs. "Then _do_ something."

"You're upset," he informs just as his runs along her stomach, only stomaching at the band of her jeans.

"I'm fine."

"You've never been able to lie to me."

She resents that, rolling her eyes at the insinuation. "Not true."

"What happened?" He kisses her neck then, softly, slowly, in a series that causes a shiver.

"Not important." She unbuttons her jeans and places her hand over his to guide it beneath the jean fabric. There’s only a moment when she thinks about what she’s doing and whether or not she should continue. If she needs him to stop he will, there’s no doubt, but it’s the last thing she needs. She’s cheating on Caleb, however. Worse than what he did to her. They’re not fixing their relationship. She knows it and it’s the only justification he has.

"Spencer."

He removes his hand and she wonders what he will do, at least until her jeans are being slid from her hips and down her legs, only coming off when she successfully kicks them off. She's never been so exposed with Wren before, but she doesn’t feel nervous. She feels okay, not the best, but _okay_ ...lot of that having to do with the pain she feels in her chest. "Caleb." She admits the name of the man that made her feel like she isn’t good enough. Maybe she isn’t. A fact she will have to accept. Even Toby managed to find his senses and found someone better than her...because Yvonne _is_ better than her. It is unknown if his name would mean anything to Wren. She is aware of him knowing Hanna once upon a time and it seems she is incapable of keeping her curiosity to herself, "Do you still talk to Hanna?"

"You're the only one that ever interested me." He whispers into her ear barely audible and suddenly his hand is slipping into her underwear.

“I know about you two.” Not that there is much to know and the feeling of his hand doesn’t do much for her to care about the continuing conversation. It does leave her to wonder why he doesn't just take them off with the jeans, feeling slightly embarrassed at just how wet she is. Just having him near is enough for her, the thought of him there, _willing_. She wanted him before but it is never right. Being with the man her sister is with will surely backfire later, but now, now all she could think is his fingers need to do more than just explore her. She allows herself to lean back against him as completely as she can and keep her eyes on the view of the city that is far more beautiful as the sun set. "Don't tease me." Not that he listens. "Wren." She tries to sound stern, but only sounded as if she is whining, which she is.

He smiles into her shoulder. "I never thought we'd be here," he admits just as his fingers found her clit, earning a moan. "Certainly not with one Spencer Hastings letting me get her off in front of a window."

"Whatever I've been doing isn't working for me anymore."

"I should stop." His hand stills.

Spencer puts her hand on his wrist. "Don't." Her voice is soft. "Don't stop, _please_." She reaches behind her to find his hand, wrapping her slender fingers best she could around his, awkwardly, but she doesn’t care. "I just want to feel good." It is selfish but she can repay him later. When she felt his fingers moving against her again she let out a moan. Her teeth sink into the flesh of her bottom lip and she moves her hips to create more friction...though not nearly enough for what she wants. "I don't think I'm going back to D.C." There is something therapeutic in talking to him while he is pleasuring her. No pressure...just the two of them.

"Where are you going to go?"

Surely he is just keeping her entertained by continuing the conversation as he kisses her neck, lightly sucking at her flesh, but she doesn't care. She wants to be there with him. His fingers slide further and soon she felt one entering her. It is harder to concentrate then. He moves slow and she hates it. "The world is full of opportunities." Her voice is mocking her parents. "Melissa always tells me to start somewhere new." It is then he moves faster. " _Oh_ ," she hit some kind of spot within him and it really should make her ask questions, but it only makes her brace her hand flat against the glass of the window and grind herself down against his hand. "Fuck."

"You could stay in London." He doesn't miss a beat adding another finger and lightly biting down on her neck.

All she does is moan, unable to think of anything other than the way his now fingers were working her over and making her body feel like it is on fire. She is no stranger to sex, certainly lately, but everything he does makes her feel better.

"Keep talking or I'll stop."

It is the most ridiculous thing she heard him say...anyone say, "You can't be serious."

"You started it."

"I hate you." She breathes. It won’t be much longer before she is going to find her release. She could keep up right? "Do you want me to stay in London?"

"It's about what you want."

Is that some kind of metaphor? He is getting her off because it is what she wants, talking about her life because it is what she wants while trying to figure out just what she wants. Only she doesn't know what she wants. "I want to come." It is the only thing she knows she wants.

"Then come for me, Spencer."

Why did he always have to say her name like he is some kind of phone sex operator? His voice is just enough to send her over the edge and " _Wren_ ," she whispers only to repeat it over and over until her body is done shaking with pleasure. Her legs felt shaky and she finds herself once again resting her weight on him. "Thank you," she breathes in complete gratitude.

It only takes Wren a moment longer before he turns her around in his arms to kiss her as he brings her body so she is flush against him. Spencer smiles against the kiss in victory, as if she wins some kind of game they are playing. She didn’t quite come with the idea that she was going to seduce him but as the alcohol ran through her and he would speak she couldn't help herself. She wanted him, still wants him. A part of her always wanted him and if this is her chance to have him then she will take it. Hanna and Caleb both broke her and she doesn't want to be put back together. She wants to be there and wants to be with him no matter what anyone else may think.

Wren takes a step back and takes his shirt off, holding it out to her, which she takes. "Not that I don't enjoy you walking around in nothing but your knickers," he spoke as he rummaged through the drawer in the kitchen, "but we need food. Pick one."

Spencer puts the shirt on but refuses to tell him how much she likes it. She has a habit of stealing boys' shirts and Wren is not going to be the exception. She walks over to the counter and flips through the menus, narrowing it down to two before she stands there for far too long trying to decide between the two. She didn’t realized how hungry she is until he mentioned food. "Thai," she finally decided, "Whatever you normally get." She watches as he nodded and explores his place as he calls for the food.

Going to see Wren in London on a whim was a questionable choice but she doesn't regret her decision. Rosewood feels like it is suffocating her and she is going to drown any moment. Plus, her mom is dealing with taking her Senate seat so it doesn't matter much if she is around or not. The whole deal with **A.D.** and Rollins is just more of a mess than she wants to deal with. While she is glad Hanna isn't dead but she doesn't want to hang out with her...or Caleb. Selfish that is or not.

"Do you have a girlfriend?" She asks suddenly when she hears he is done on the phone, turning to look back at him.

"A question girls normally ask before they let a guy finger them in the middle of his flat."

"Is that a yes?"

"No," he shakes his head. "Do you have a boyfriend?"

She looks down for a moment. "Not anymore."

"You'll have to let me buy you coffee."

Spencer smiles, unable to help herself. How did he even remember that? "They even have decent coffee here? Or do they put half a cup of cream in it? I've seen the way people make tea in Europe. It's not pretty."

Wren lets out a breathless chuckle as he closes the distance between them and his hands find her hips. "We'll go on an adventure find the best coffee until you're satisfied."

"What if I want to keep you chained to the bed tomorrow?"

"Spencer Hastings is not going to miss coffee. You can chain me afterwards."

She kisses him then. Being there is easy. He isn't bothering her with questions like anyone else does. She forgot how much she missed kissing him. It is good. Things with Wren were always good and easy. "I never returned your favor." Her hands went to his belt.

He stops her. "Make it up to me later."

Spencer instantly looks confused, tensing up, a fear running through her. "Do you not?"

"No, Spencer...believe me. I want to. After we eat."

She stole a quick kiss when Wren pulled her back, "Not until after we eat. You'll just have to wait." She ends up falling back against the couch and putting her feet up on the table, her long legs stretching out in front of her. They are easily her best feature. The rest of her has a tendency to look like a preteen boy. His shirt came down just enough past her hips, fingers playing with the hem of the black shirt, wondering things she would rather not have to allow her mind to think of. "Do you like me better than Hanna?"

"I didn't know you knew…" he doesn’t finish his sentence as he sat down next to her. "Yes."

"Yes as in actual yes or yes in you don't want to hurt my feelings?"

"Yes as in yes." He insists. "You've been something beyond my wildest imagination since the day I met you."

"Sometimes I think you're the only one who thinks that."

"Is that why you came?"

"Yes." She looks over at him. wondering if she hurt him with the truth. Not the whole truth, at least. Not yet. Maybe not ever. "I wasn't sure you would let me in. It's been a while… _Melissa_ …"

"What happened with your carpenter? Or the hacker? I know they're names. I just don't very well care what they are."

"What happened with Melissa?"

"Well played." He compliments and doesn’t bother answering her question.

"I'll tell you about Toby eventually," she whispers, grazing her fingers against the top of his hand, "I'm just not ready. Maybe Caleb but I don't want to cry."

"Plan on sticking around, yeah?"

"Maybe." She shrugs. For how long she doesn't know. She can’t run away from Rosewood forever, but she knows Melissa spent a good amount of time just trying to figure herself out. Maybe that is what Spencer needs...to just be. She enjoyed the work she did but there is no way she could go back to D.C. and pretend everything is alright. As long as she had a job working in the government and this new **A** is after them...she would need to take some kind of break. It pained her but the heartbreak pained her more.

The silence hits them until there’s a knock at the door, presumably the food. Spencer waits until she heard the thud on the counter before she got up, watching Wren with a new appreciative eye. "You should have let me pay for the food. I've imposed enough."

"Do you have any pounds?" He looks at her with a raised eyebrow.

"No."

"I rest my case." He smiles as he pulled the food out of the bags and set the containers out. "I'm not one of your little boyfriends. I'm a doctor...I'm sure I can afford takeaway."

 

It only took for the containers to be opened before Spencer lets the food consume her. She is starving and realizes she hasn’t had anything to eat since hours before her flight, before the body. She finds herself sitting closer to Wren than necessary at the table and eating more food than she probably should in one sitting. The two make small talk as they eat. She tells him all about Georgetown, easily skipping over the mess with Toby, along with certain details about her adventures in Spain, again leaving out the details of Caleb. He, in turn, tells her about his job as a doctor that came with some stories that made her laugh so hard she almost choked on her food. At least he would save her.

The time passes them by with ease and before she knows it they just talked for an hour. He moves to clean up, rejecting her offer to help. She does some rejecting of her own. Phone call after phone call is met with her hitting the decline button. She’s not ready to talk and knows she’s not much help an ocean away.

"Put it on silent if you don't want to answer it. Bloody annoying."

She sticks out her tongue to Wren and flips  through the messages...mainly just her friends wondering where she disappeared off to. She sighs and answered Aria and Emily back that she just needed a few days to herself, leaving the messages from Caleb and Hanna unanswered. It’s a little pathetic but it is what it is. She makes sure to tell them she played her part and reinforce her alibi is covered. Should probably let Wren know about that part sooner rather than later.

Not that it worked because it is another call. As if the five hundred she ignored weren't hint enough. She is about to hit decline again before the phone is snatched out of her hand.

"She's safe and busy."

"Wren!" She calls out at him and knew they hear the moment she says his name. "They're going to know I'm with you." She whispers sternly, trying to get her phone back.

"Are you ashamed of me?" He whispers far more amused than she actually picks up on.

"No, God no. No. I'm sorry I just meant I like the mystery." But the minute he smiles she lightly swats him on the arm and grabs her phone. "I just need some time. I’ll be back soon." is all she says and doesn't bother to wait for a response before she hangs up. She needs time and if that time is with Wren there were worse ways to spend it.

"Bedroom." is all he says as he grabbed her hand and leads her to back to the room that is his, Spencer smiling the entire walk.

There were a few times she imagined what it would be like to actually be with him, but the reality is soon placed before her. She never thought that would happen, but as the door shuts behind her she is excited...in a new kind of way she doesn't expect to be. Her hands find the hem of her shirt and lifted it above her head as she heard him fuss with the buckle and remove his jeans.

"Come here," he says and she obliges with ease, looking up at him as he tucked a few strands of hair behind her ear.

She ran her hands along his sides. Not the first time she'd seen him shirtless but more enjoyable than she remembered before. Or is that her arousal talking? Probably a little of both. "Hi."

"Hi." He replies in a whisper before he kisses her.

She doesn't hesitate in kissing him back, wrapping her arms around his neck, their chests flush against one another. It’s a moment she’s been waiting for for far too long. She did love Toby when they were together, but the moments when things were falling apart between them there’s no denial Wren was the one in her more sexual thoughts.

He guides the two of them to the bed, pushing her down so her back hits the mattress, the kiss not breaking as she only got more desperate for him. Her hand slid down against his exposed chest when she reaches his boxers, feeling him through the fabric. He is hardening from her touch and she only wants to feel more of him. So much so she stops and pulls them from his hips, not waiting for him to pull them from his body before she has her hand wrapped around him and begins to stroke him.

Wren moans against her mouth. A sound that she only wants to hear again. Soon her underwear is gone and his fingers found her clit just as he had done earlier. Her hips roll against him, _needy_ , the desire only growing between them.

His hand rests on her wrist, stopping her just when she is finding her rhythm. "I don't want to come in your hand."

His voice is so much more when he could barely control his desire, _breathy_ , far greater than she imagined...because she had imagined this. "Then don't." Her hand falls from his erection as she moves to kiss him once again. She bites down on his lip and looks at him as he moans against her mouth, able to feel the vibrations move throughout her. A pout found it's way to her lips as he pulls away, disliking the lack of contact between them.

The sound of the condom wrapper is familiar to her and silently thanked they don’t need to have that awkward conversation. She'd been there before and it is never fun. Instead she only lied in wait for a passing moment before he is kissing her again. Her hands found his hair, running it through the dark strands, arching herself up to him. She is tired of waiting.

"Wren," she murmurs as his lips made his way down her neck. "Wren," it coming out more of a moan now.

"Hmm?" He manages to get our during his series of kisses. "This is already darkening." He kisses what is surely a hickey, "Wonder where else I can leave them?"

She angles her neck to give him more access, grinding herself against him to feel something. Surely she looks like a pathetic mess and she certainly feels like one...but she doesn't care. If he cared she might, but he is only touching her in all the places she needs to be touched.

He kisses along her chest before making his way back up to her lips and just as their lips met she feels him enter her. There is no helping the moan that bubbles up from her lips and the way she hooks her legs around him to feel him as much as she can.

He doesn't linger long, for which she is thankful, speeding up his thrusts as they kiss. It is good. Oh, so good. It won’t solve any of her problems and the ache in her chest will be there afterwards, but she isn't thinking of any of that. If only for the moment she found her escape. All her mind is focusing on is that she actually has Wren on top of her...inside of her, his hand on her breast, teasing her harden nipple, other on her swollen clit making her body feel fire. He stretches her just right and with each shift of their bodies it is another level of pleasure coursing through her.

"Fuck." She finds herself swearing a lot recently and it bled into her sex life.

"I believe that's what I'm doing."

She laughs, full on laughs, hands finding the sides of his face. It is fun. Fun is what she needed. Fun is her smiling and laughing while they made one another feel good, great. He looks down at her like she is insane and maybe she is...just a _little_. She leans up to steal a series of kisses from his lips. "Don't stop."

He only speeds up and it is perfect. What she finds even more perfect is moving them, which he follows right along with as she is now the one on top, Wren's back against the bed. She rests her hands against his chest as she unashamedly took the pleasure he is so willing to give. His hands resume their positions only aiding in her pleasure and she is so close. So close her body felt like it is on fire.

Spencer's body raises until he is almost slipping out of her before she slides back down on him. Nothing is slow and gentle. She doesn't need that. She needed for them to just... _fuck_. That is exactly what she does as the sounds of their bodies moving together fill the room...only broken up by their moans. Her orgasm hit her and she rides it out, "Wren," his name coming out in a long moan, feeling him reach his own release and her name ringing through the air.

Once she catches her breath she kisses him as she climbs off of him, feeling empty without him inside of her. She takes her spot on the side of him, Wren shifting away as he rids himself of the condom. Once he joins her on the bed again her head found his chest and she hooks his leg over his.

"We're doing that again," Wren whispers, running his fingers through her hair.

Spencer laughs, "I think I'll enjoy London then."


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spencer Hastings is never more than temporary in his life.

There’s something about having Spencer in his bed as he gets ready for work that still seems so foreign to him. She is the last person he expects to be there and the very last person he expected to see when he opened that door after the knocking pulled him from his work. So much so there was nothing for him to do but move to the side so that she could walk through the threshold. The series of events that led to her still lying asleep in his bed as he quietly tries to find his keys and hospital badge still seem something he’s making up in his own mind. He gave her the past thirty six hours but knows he simply cannot spend all of his time in bed with her. He wants to. Oh, how he wants to. The beautiful girl in his bed is far more intriguing than the host of patients he needs to see that day. He even knows that she won’t remain forever. She’s escaping whatever happened in Rosewood, something he hadn’t pried out of her just yet, but she’ll go back.

Spencer Hastings is never more than temporary in his life.

Since their first meeting it’s been nothing more than a series of almosts. Almost friends. Almost lovers. Almost together. Almost. Almost. Almost. She had the Carpenter, the very man he ever refuses to mention by name out of a distaste he tries to keep masked, though he’s entirely certain the feeling is mutual. Or _was_ mutual. Doesn’t think either give the other much thought after so many years. From the few times he and the boy, because that’s all he was, a _boy_ , were in the same room nothing went well. He had Melissa, who he tries desperately not to think about as he watches Spencer lying in the bed, as peaceful as he’s ever seen her. Caleb seems to be her most recent liaison but from the way she has this far away look in her eyes when the silence falls upon them he doesn’t think he’s done her any favors. How Caleb went from Hanna to Spencer to whatever transpired to her in his bed he is curious but sees just how much she is unwilling to share. She’s rarely one for spilling out truths, always something more beneath the surface.

She doesn’t want complications and he’s someone who can make it so there aren’t any.

He doesn’t need the entire story. Never had. She has a certain air of mystery about her he’s been drawn to since he met her. Always as if she was hiding something. He always knew a little more than he would ever let on, but didn’t believe his accent was the only one thing that ever drew her to him. As he stands there, however, there is very little he does know. Charlotte is dead and Spencer is in Rosewood with her friends. Melissa is in London, living her life far away from him, leaving him out of the Hastings loop. Being so far removed from the Hastings has proven to make his life quite calm, in an odd sort of way he is not entirely sure if ever truly adjusts to.

Through everything he does his best not to analyze her. She wouldn’t respond well if she were to find out. He’s bore witness to her spiral before and it’s different this time around. He supposes it’s a good thing, that whatever it was Caleb did didn’t manage to tear her to the ground. It’s all too easy to see Caleb is responsible for the changes in her. She’s different than he remembers in a myriad of ways and it’s only hints of the young girl he knew that remain. She’s quiet in a way that only makes him more curious, not less. Quiet and tired. Not in the way where once she wakes she’ll be put together and fine, but in the way that life isn’t kind to her. It’s a truth he knows, parts of just how unkind life has been to her. There are very few people who never heard the story of the four kidnapped teen girls. His relationship with Melissa and previous contact with Charlotte make it impossible for him to remain in the dark regardless.

She came to see him after she graduated from Georgetown, telling him about her time at the prestigious school and worry for what life had waiting for her. He heard hints of Caleb then, an offhand mention here or there, but nothing she was willing to admit was more than just the pair being friends. It was her second visit a few weeks before he got word of Charlotte’s death did he see her care for him, in a way that was deeper than simply being someone’s friend. He and Spencer became friends, in a true sense of the word. It happened to be a polite, _friendly_ dynamic. At least until the knock on his front door managed to change everything.

“You’re staring.” She whispers, her voice thick with sleep.

“I’m not.” Wren denies as he moves to the nightstand to retrieve his phone. “I have to go to work.”

“I can amuse myself.”

She rises from the bed then and stretches, not bothering to cover herself up. He’s staring, unable to help himself, enjoying the sight of her all too perfect nude form before him. No belief existed prior in which he thought the reality would exist as it does, nor just how unashamed she is.

He’s going to be late the longer he stands around but it’s as if his feet are glued to the floor. She consumes him in all the ways she’s done since he first met her. No fault of her own, rather the fault lies on him. She’s twenty-three as she makes her way around the bed and it easily rids him of any and all guilt. He just hit thirty and notes the gap between them, as same as ever, but it’s nothing he cares about anymore. The only concern that comes over him is a worry that he, in fact, psychoanalyzing her in a way he shouldn’t, turning them into something of a dynamic they don’t need to add on top of the complicated history they are as it is.

She ruffles through his things in order to find the pack of cigarettes he should be better about hiding. Bloody nasty habit he tries to kick but some day it’s just something that he gives into. Watching her do it is far different. She bends over the edge of the windowsill as the distant smell of smoke fill his senses. His eyes continue to linger and he thinks no one in their right mind could ever not desire her. “You shouldn’t smoke.”

"Neither should you," she replies, tossing a look back at him, her hair falling over the sides of her shoulders. "At least I'm not a _doctor_ smoking. Do you tell your patients to stop while knowing you're going against your own advice?"

He doesn’t even pretend to not be amused as a smile crosses his lips. "Do you grow tired of sassing?"

" _Never_."

A brief glance at his watch tells him he only has a few minutes before he absolutely has to leave. Times such as these he wishes he lives far closer to the hospital than he does. Still, he cannot resist carrying his feet so he’s standing next her, stealing the cigarette from her. He takes a drag ignoring her all too judgmental glare. “Come have lunch with me?”

“I’d have to put on clothes then.” She teases him as she stands up straight, taking the cigarette back for herself. “I’ll stop by. I don’t think hiding in your apartment is going to do me any good.”

The sadness in her eyes hits him then. He expects absolutely nothing from her but does hope that it doesn’t end in something painfully tragic. “There’s a whole city to see, Spencer. Enjoy it.” He only lingers long enough to get a kiss from her, his hand on her cheek. “You’re usually on a mission of sorts. Relax. Go sight see. Be a normal tourist for a day.”

“I make no promises. _Go_ ,” she orders, “save lives. I’ll be fine.”

* * *

It’s one of the few days in which he watches the clock. It doesn’t move. Time never does when one is waiting for something. He is waiting for something, to see Spencer again, to escape from the patients and their madness. There’s something he truly enjoys about being a doctor. He hadn’t been lying when he told Spencer that the drive came from him. It did. His mum didn’t care too much one way or another what he did. His father was too lost in his own mind to form any real opinion, leaving a family fractured. Not that he blames him anymore. He understands just how little there is to understand. The only thing that remains is a soft wish at what could have been.

His life is devoted to it without any regret. Even dealing with the most unruly of patients brings a sense of calm over him, as if he’s always been set out for this life. It doesn’t matter that some days objects are thrown and other days there’s nothing but silence that fills the rooms. It simply reminds him of the time he found himself so frustrated with his father he threw a bowl of soup or seeing Spencer within the halls of Radley that brought him a greater understanding of so much about her.

It’s only the days he worries he’ll end up exactly like his father that he hates his job more than anything.

As he finishes filling out the charts the only thing he dislikes is how slow the day is, checking his watch for the umpteenth time. It’s a good day, relatively, for the morning, at least. He long ago barred himself from getting too attached to how the first half of a shfit moves, as the afternoon can usually bring something far worse. He looks up just as he signs his name to the chart and sees Spencer walking down the hall to him. Right on time.

“Are you wearing my shirt?” Is the only thing he can manage to offer up at proper greeting. She most obviously is with the shirt he recognizes and the way it hangs off of her. Not a ton but enough, even tucked into her jeans.

She looks down at her choice of outfit for only a moment. “I needed something to wear.” She lets a shrug roll off her shoulders as she looks up at him. “Do you not like it?”

“No, I do.” Nothing there not to like.

“I took your advice and I went to the Tower of London.”

“Of course you did.” There’s no surprise in his voice.

“You’re the one who told me to get out and sight see. So, I did. I bought this bracelet,” she smiles as she holds out her wrist, “ _everyone_ needs a bracelet marking the fates of Henry VIII’s wives. You know, I dressed up as Mary Queen of Scots once. I’m the one who would totally get beheaded by her own family. _Fitting_.”  

“I doubt Melissa is going to behead you.”

Spencer scoffs and gives him something of a pointed look. “I had sex with you. She already made a comment about shopping out of other people’s carts with Caleb, which blew up in my face so...” She shrugs, letting the conversation die off. “Are you ready for lunch?”

“Yeah.” He doesn’t think the topic of Melissa will do either of them good anyway. “There’s a place across the street.”

She doesn’t say anything as they fall in line walking through the hospital until they are outside. It’s a nice day, which is something of a rarity as of late. He lost count how many times he got rained on in the past week. The silence is comfortable over awkward, something he prefers. Not that it’s ever been awkward with Spencer. Not when just being around her is nice. It’s a horrid idea to compare her and Melissa, but his brain simply keeps doing it. A horrid idea to get involved with sisters in the first place. He and Melissa have been broken up for the better part of three years. Something that has stuck with how much she detests him now. Not that there’s much blame he holds for her. Not with the way the breakup went. Didn’t ever think a phone call with Charlotte would be a bigger sin than holding a certain affection for her younger sister.

“What happened with Caleb?” He asks so suddenly he barely even registers that it’s him speaking the four words.

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

Briefly he glances out of the corner of his eye at her, “Last time I saw you you seemed quite smitten with him.”

“Yeah, well things change, Wren.” She bites out the words, letting out of something of a huff. “I’m not... _mad_ . I’m just... _heartbroken_. He loves Hanna and not me. It’s fine. I just... _I just_ ...really thought he loved me.” She whispers the last part out and moves to wipe the stray tear that fell.  “He moved to D.C, after we were together in Madrid. Before I left he told me that he had job offer in San Francisco and he didn’t take it because he wanted to stay. Who does that?” She looks over at him just briefly, her eyes filled with tears. “Who does that, sticks around for years, and then decides their ex is better? I mean, I get it. It’s Hanna. _Look_ at her. She’s not a damaged mess. Even _you_ were into her. It was stupid think that…”

“Spencer…”

“No, don’t. I’m not hungry anymore. I’m going to go…” Before he can say anything she’s putting her hand up to stop him. “You need to eat though since you have work. I’ll just see you back at your place. Don’t worry about me. I’m fine.”

“Spencer.” Wren calls out as she walks in the other direction but when she just keeps walking he decides it’s best to not push her. It’s the most candid she’s been since she landed in London. He wants to fix it for her but can’t. He can’t mend the pain she’s going through and he wants to. More than he can explain. The only thing he can do is wish she saw herself in a better light.

* * *

He ends up calling her in the middle of the rest of his shift only for her not to answer. Not that he really knows what he would have said had she actually answered his call. He hopes that she’s there when he gets back to his flat so he can talk to her or at least see her before she leaves. Not that she sounds as if she wants to go home, quite the opposite. She doesn’t run for long, always manages to find her way back. It’s admirable really. The way she’ll do anything for those around her when she’s unhappy and unsure about so much. It’s a bond and loyalty he’s never found within his own life.

Her stuff is still on his couch and her voice can be heard from his bedroom when he shuts the door behind him by the time he actually manages to make it back home. His keys make their way to the entry table before he walks down the hall, slowly, loosening the tie from around his neck. She’s lying on his bed, facing the opposite wall with her phone attached to her ear. It’s likely better he can’t see her face when her broken one from earlier is something haunting.

“I just need to be mad a little longer.” Spencer says quietly. “And I’ll talk to Caleb when I get back. He’s right we both need to...figure things out.”

He’s not sure that she knows he’s there but he finds himself lying next to her on the bed anyway, alerting her to his presence without saying anything. She’s still wearing his shirt just with her jeans cast aside, her hair in a plait, and her body free of anything else. It puzzles him the way she can think that Hanna is obviously the more attractive one when she’s there just existing and his attraction to her is absolute. His own misguided attraction to Hanna is something so far in the past it’s hard to even fathom what he saw.

“I haven’t... _no_  Just trust me on this one and I’ll explain it to them when I get back. Yeah, bye, Hanna.”

“After you left,” Wren doesn’t bother to ask her about her conversation with Hanna, only starting his own as he wraps his arm around her, pulls her to him just enough so her back is pressed against him, “I kept thinking about your question. _‘Who does that?’_ A guy who doesn’t know what he has and is bloody stupid. I’m not going to pretend I did Melissa much better, nor will I pretend this is something other than you needing comfort. You are worth so much more than a guy making you feel like this. My own interest in Hanna was an error in judgement and I’d choose you over her every single time.”

She’s quiet. So quiet a brief thought passes his mind that he said something wrong. It’s difficult to see her there and pretend all the things he once felt don’t still exist. Not as strongly as years prior but enough to wish she remains in his arms forever. It’s pathetic, really, that he lies there with her simply willing to take what she offers. Long ago he decided he simply wished for her happiness, but as she relaxes herself against him, she’s not happy. It doesn’t take much to see that.

“Do you remember that Christmas we spent at that cabin right after you and Toby had broken up? We got snowed in. Everyone else went to bed and I came downstairs only to find you crying because you couldn’t light the fireplace. That was your excuse,” he does his best to not smile at the memory, “I knew better but I pretended to believe you. I remember thinking how much you deserve to be happy. You deserve that, you know, to be happy. Not to cast yourself full of doubt and wondering why someone would leave you. There was a split second I thought you were going to kiss me that night.”

“I wanted to.” Spencer confesses with nothing more than a mere whisper. “Maybe not for the right reasons. I was in pain but I wanted Melissa to be happy. You broke up with her a couple weeks later.”

“It was the right decision.”

“Yeah.”  She sniffles, moving to wipe the tears forming, not bothering to look back at him. “I have to tell you something and I think it might backfire. Either way I need you to keep it a secret even if you hate me like you hate Melissa. Do you understand?”

“I don’t hate Melissa.” Not that the detail is all that important. “I understand.”

“Melissa said you broke up with her because of something Charlotte told you.” She pauses, aimlessly running her finger against his hand. “Part of me wants to ask why you would side with Charlotte of all people, but Alison did, too, so maybe it’s not so much of a mystery. I know what Melissa did was wrong but that girl pushed Toby’s mom off of Radley so I don’t feel that bad. Caleb isn’t the only reason I’m here. I... _we_ …” she pauses long enough to let out a breath, “Alison was in Webly, the new Radley, by her husband. He was a fraud. He’s dead and I buried his body. I used the plane ride as an alibi and…”

“ _Me_. You’re using me as an alibi.” He doesn’t say anything else, entirely unsure as to what to say. Not that he moves from where he’s holding her. She feels nice against him and the whole processing of thoughts is taking more time than he ever thought it would. Not that there was ever a moment in which he could say Spencer would be lying there telling him she buried someone’s body. No, he didn’t quite see her in such light, though being related to Melissa should make it far less surprising than it is. “Why are you telling me this?”

“I have his phone in my bag and I was wondering if you would use it? Not here but enough to make them think he just... _left_ her.”

“Bloody Hell, Spencer.”

“I know it’s a lot. It’s more than I should ever ask of you, but it wasn’t on purpose. Everything is just so _fucked_ up that I don’t know how to be anymore. I ran here but I can’t stay here. They need me and I have a bad habit of using you to get my way, but,” she carefully shifts in his arms so she’s looking at him, “I feel more lost and more scared than when I was sixteen. I finally moved on and I didn’t have nightmares. Now, I just can’t get rid of them. I see his body and his face. I see Charlotte and I’m so _alone_. I know it’s not fair. I’m not fair to you but please, Wren, I need this _one_ favor. I can disappear from your life forever.”

He thinks he should break from her, should walk away and just think. He doesn’t. He only watches her, watches as the tears fall, watches as she grows more upset. He can see the distress in her and it appeals to him in a way he would rather it not. It makes him think that he’s about to do something he shouldn’t. She’s effectively using him and he’s been down this path before. Almost as if he’s become blind to so much just because it’s Spencer. His reaches and runs his fingers against her cheek. “You don’t have to disappear from my life. I’ll do it. For _you_.”

“I didn’t kill Charlotte.” She says suddenly, glancing down from him.

“I know. I know you didn’t.” His words are gentle as his forehead meets hers. She seems far too interested in covering up the one she did committ to leave Charlotte’s body out for anyone to see.

“And I’m not actually broken up with Caleb. I’m entirely certain he’s breaking up with me. I just...didn’t get that far.”

“Somehow that’s the least of your offenses.” The words are soft as he brushes her lips against hers. “Is that what you were talking about with Hanna?”

“She told everyone I’m staying with Melissa. They’re all mad and they’ll be mad when I tell them I told you, but it’s so hard to lie all the time. It’s dumb, I know. When you’ll be here and I’ll be in Rosewood.” The pause only serves for her to grip his hand in her own. “Why were you in contact with Charlotte?”

“I’m a doctor.”

“You’re not _her_ doctor.”

“No, I wasn’t her doctor. She was there when I first volunteered at Radley.” An admission he never believed he’d make, but as the words slip out of his mouth he only think it’s fair. “She sought me out and wanted to spill a lot of secrets. In that way...you know her remorse isn’t real. She told me a lot of things about you and Melissa.”

“Yeah, nothing was ever real about Charlotte. I thought I would die in that dollhouse. Just like I thought I was going to die in that church at the hands of Ian.”

“I’m sorry, you know. About Ian. I should have listened to you. If I knew about Charlotte and the Dollhouse…”

“ _Don’t,_  Wren.” She shakes her head, giving him a glance. “I’m alive and they are both dead. It’s fine.”

 _It’s not fine_ , but the words don’t come out of his mouth. He just lays there and watches her, knowing just how much is going to be gone from him too soon. It’s all too easy to see just unfair he is with Melissa and Spencer. Unfair to remain with Melissa as long as he had, and unfair to look at Spencer with a genuine softness as if she didn’t just admit to _murdering_ someone. She’s always been complicated and mysterious, something about her pulling him, and it’s safe to say he is pulled in right then. Eyes focused on her and thoughts only focused on how much he wants to kiss her. As if her dark secrets only make her more desirable, for some reason he doesn’t understand. Sometimes life is just messy and there are no answers.

“Did you love Melissa?”

It’s a fair question but one that causes him to swallow, taking a moment. “You’re just full of questions.”

“Did you?”

“Yes.” It’s soft. Almost as if he doesn’t want to admit it at all. Part of him doesn’t. At least not to Spencer. It’s as if Melissa is right there in the room with them whenever she’s brought up. She’ll never forgive him for being with Spencer and as much as he doesn’t wish to come between the two it’s hard to look at Spencer and think that he should pull back simply because of her sister. He _should_ , though. He knows that. He knows that in the painful way that getting entangled in her messes will only cause more harm and destruction in the end. “You loved Toby and Caleb.”

“Can you love someone who doesn’t love you back?”

“Yes,” he answers. “Another’s feelings mean little.”

“Did you love me?”

“You never let me.” There was a time in which he thought he could, but it seemed so long ago. “You came around to make yourself feel better and I never minded. I don’t mind now, _much_. I could do without the accessory to murder after the fact but,” he smiles, unable to help himself, “having you here, like this, in my bed, for a few days seems worth whatever else has happened between us in the past. You’ll go home and meet a nice bloke. I’ll make the call and drop the phone somewhere public.”

“That sounds so sad.”

“I just know you.” There’s nothing he finds sad about it, just a truth they both need to know is in front of them. “Much like Caleb’s desire for Hanna your desire is for him. I broke Melissa’s heart but it was better than continuing the lie. I do wish your heart wasn’t broken, but I think it’s right you’ll know. This will all seem like a distant memory.”

“Are you mad I killed someone?”

“No,” he shakes his head, welcoming the subject change. “I’m not mad Melissa killed Bethany. I just wish it wasn’t a lie in a list of many. Our relationship was complicated and you barely get on with your sister I don’t think I need to explain it.”

“It’s what our family is good at. Murder and secrets.”

“All families have their niche.”

It’s only when she falls asleep does he slip out from the bed and into the living room. He’s glad it’s just the two of them for a myriad of reasons but her most recent confession happens to top the list. The whole thing still hasn’t quite processed and he does his best not to imagine the scene before him. She didn’t share details so his own images are only things he makes up, but still...it’s not anything he expects from Spencer.

He does wonder what does he expect out of her? They are so short within each other’s lives that he doesn’t really know Spencer at all outside of anything Melissa told him, which was just enough to keep him informed about the events happening. It wasn’t as if her and her friends could get kidnapped without half the world knowing, especially her own sister. He wouldn’t have thought it was Charlotte behind everything, but life continues to prove Wren wrong more often than not.

“You left.” Spencer whispers as she walks out from the hall, moving to sit on the couch.

“I was going to make us dinner.”

The explanation seems to satisfy her as he she doesn’t reply while he moves around the kitchen. As the silence lingers between the two of them he can’t help but think about how different this version of Spencer is. She is so unapologetically herself that he wonders if this is the girl she is when no one is around. She doesn’t need to be who her friends think she is, her family, her boyfriend. She can just be in a foreign city with a man who is familiar yet unfamiliar. If he could keep her like this forever he would. That is too selfish...even for Wren.

"I'll see if I can get a flight tomorrow," she finally says.

"I can take you to the airport."

"That'll be nice."

Silence hangs in the air between the two of them but it’s somehow different. Every time he looks over at her there is something he can’t explain. A mood shifting away from the dampers that plague them. It’s foolish to pretend everything is fine, but when the darkness creeps in it’s impossible to escape it. Or near impossible.

She grabs a bottle of wine and deliberately brushes past him, Wren watching her out of the corner of his eye as she reaches to grab the wine glasses on the top shelf. All too easily it makes him desire far more than dinner. Eating food seems as if it moves down to the lowest on the list of priorities. Not that she says or does anything more, so he doesn’t, finding themselves seated at the table shortly after.

“Are you trying to ply me, Miss Hastings?” He questions as she pours them both a glass of wine.

"Maybe," she whispers in his ear so softly it causes a shiver to run down his spine.

It’s not a tone she uses often with him. Not much of a tone they ever have much opportunity to find use out of. Only it manages to make him crazy all the same. "Food," he whispers to himself as he tries to focus. It is far better than focusing on her and how she was driving him wild just by _existing_. There is nothing extraordinary about the way she is in the moment. She’s just Spencer.

* * *

“You need to shower.” She instructs him as she grabs the plates off of the table and moves to the sink.

“Bossy.”

“I’m not.”

Wren raises an eyebrow at her as she stands from the table. If Spencer Jill Hastings isn’t bossy he has no idea who in the world possibly could be. He enjoys it, most of the time. Not that he cares to share that little detail.

"Shower." She repeats with a smile, as if makes her less bossy.

Wren doesn’t walk towards the bathroom, instead finds himself standing behind her, wrapping his arms around her torso. "We can save water if we shower together."

"Hmm, when did you become Mr. Environmental man?"

"The moment you told me to shower." He presses a kiss to her shoulder. He wants her more than did earlier, taking the definite mood shift for all it was worth. “It’ll be fun. Way more fun than taking it upon yourself to do my dishes.”

“You go shower,” she begins, turning her head to look back at him, “and I’ll meet you in the bedroom. For some _fun_.”

"Do I get a kiss?"

"No."

There’s a smile in her denial that makes him smile in return, only to leave her in the kitchen and proceeding to the shower. After the day he had it wasn't as if he didn't need it, but a shower with Spencer seems far more entertaining than standing alone under the stream. He lets out a breath and allows the hot water to near burn his skin as he tries his best not to think about things that only complicate his life further. Something of a toss up between Spencer and work.

When he gets out of the shower she’s lying on the bed, scrolling through her phone. She’s attached to that little thing. So much so it makes him wonder. He only lays down next to her, on his side, using his arm to prop his head up.

“You know, I got fired.” She speaks almost absently as he doesn’t bother to look at him.

“Right now?”

“No, a week ago. I never went because of...things in Rosewood. It was only supposed to be a few weeks but,” she lets out a sigh and tosses her phone on the pillow, “now I’m here.”

“Until tomorrow.”

“Until tomorrow.”

“So,” he moves so he’s closer to her, “we should make the most of it.”

“Only want me for the sex?”

“Yes.” No part of him is actually serious, especially not as he lets out a light laugh.

She swats him on the chest. “Wren.”

He tucks the loose thread of hair behind her ear. “It’s never been about sex. We were friends when I was dating Melissa.”

“I don’t think we were ever _just_ friends.” She whispers as she runs her fingers along his jaw. “Do you want to know why I broke up with Toby?”

“Only if you want to tell me.” He is curious, too curious for his own good, but doesn't want her to feel a sense of obligation. As if she’s in his bed and needs to offer up things of herself.

“We were growing apart. I knew that we probably needed to end things. I got pregnant and...I got an abortion.” She only bothers to look up at him when the last word is uttered.

Wren isn’t sure what he expected her to say. That did not happen to be it. Not that there was any judgement, just surprise. “Do you regret it?”

“No.”

“Then it was the right choice.” He pauses for a moment, “Melissa wanted kids.”

“And you didn’t?”

He doesn’t answer her. “Did she ever tell you how we met?”

Spencer shakes her head, “We didn’t talk about you all that much.”

“She was in line in front of me at Starbucks and just started chatting away. It didn’t even take us two months to get engaged. I think if we had gotten married we’d be divorced, and we would have kids to shuffle back and forth.” It’s odd that when he looks at Spencer he doesn’t see anything about Melissa that makes him think of them as sisters. The eyes, maybe, if he really concentrates, but they are so entirely different. In a way that makes him question how he can ever hold feelings for women that are near polar opposites. He and Melissa certainly had their problems, but he’d be a lying fool to act as if if there wasn’t something real for her once upon a time. All nothing more than a series of what ifs. The past matters little as he lies with her and exists within the moment. “I had to grow up without a dad and a nanny for mother once it all...fell apart. I don’t want that for any kid I have.”

“What happened?”

“For as long as I could remember he had problems and when I was ten he just…” It’s his turn to be the one who shrugs and does little to finish his answer. “There are places far worse than Radley in the world.”

“You never told me that.” Her voice is soft as she closes the distance between them, brushing her lips against his. “I’m sorry, Wren.”

“Mm, I think we can find far better things to focus on.”

She doesn’t kiss him, not yet, not even with how close her lips are to meeting his. “And what do you have in mind?”

“Kiss me and find out.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I want to be loved. Actually, truly loved.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter follows along 7x06 and has some dialogue taken from the show. It's mostly the Spaleb scene from that episode since I didn't want to cut it out nor did I feel the need to write my own version since it fits.

Spencer stands in Heathrow with her plane ticket back to Philadelphia in her hand, looking at Wren with a feeling she isn’t used to feeling with him. It won’t be long before she’s home and dropping her stuff in the barn so she can deal with whoever **A.D.** happens to be. There’s a nice sense of being in his presence where having another psycho stalker simply doesn’t matter. It certainly didn’t matter when they woke up that morning with his arms wrapped around her in a safety net that she needs after everything with Rollins.

That and she’s not ready to face the music with her friends.

“Thank you," she finally manages to speak, "For this."

“You know you’re welcome anytime. I mean it just as much as I did back then.”

“I know.” She smiles softly. It’s the best she can offer him and when he smiles in return it doesn’t feel like everything's falling apart. It’s one second in a world of many seconds. She reaches for his hand and grasps it with her own, giving a gentle squeeze. It’s ridiculous the way she’s acting and there’s a part of her that knows she is just as ridiculous with Caleb. Just the mere thought of him causes her to swallow and try to fight back emotions that threaten to overwhelm her. “This wasn’t just some dumb comfort thing. I wasn’t using you.”

“I know, Spencer.” He steps forward just enough so little space remains. “You don’t have to explain yourself to me.”

“You’ve always deserved better than me dumping my messes on you when things get too hard.” Her habit spans years but he never manages to complain. He only accepts her with open arms and this time an open bed. Wren is there when no one else is and when she needs to run away from her friends. If she actually leaned on them in her darker moments maybe things would become less complicated for her. Yet, it’s his hand she’s reluctant to let go of. “If you ever need to run away from super shitty London,” she lets out a soft laugh, “you know where Rosewood is.”

“Call me when you land.” Is all he manages to whisper before kissing her in the crowd of people.

She falls into him and ends up wrapping her arms around him, keeping him close,  _needing_ him close. Kissing him is always one of her favorite things to do. From when she was sixteen in her bedroom to twenty-three standing in the middle of the airport. He’s comfort. “You should leave before you’re late for work.”

“Just one more minute.”

“One more minute.” She kisses him again in a way that makes her feel like the teenager who can’t get enough. Only now she isn’t questioning herself or worrying. She’s just being. Yes, she’s not broken up with Caleb but they will break up before the end of the week. She can feel it even if he’s not saying anything. Hanna’s feelings are very real and she doesn’t want to be in the middle. It hurts in ways she can’t explain but it’s for the better. As she kisses Wren she knows it’s all for the better.

* * *

Spencer sleeps the entire flight back just so she doesn’t need to think about everything that’s happened since she went back to Rosewood. It’s the right thing for her to go back now but there’s a feeling she has inside of her that makes her wish to stay in London with Wren just so she can hide from all of her messes. They are her messes, one she put on herself, things she can’t deny and blame on others. She knows she did this all to herself but none of it hurts any less. She can’t run forever. She can’t leave them to deal with **A.D.** all their own. **A.D.** would probably realize she’s missing and track her down. Putting Wren and her friends in more danger simultaneously is not something she can do.

But as she parks her car in front of her house, glancing over at Alison’s where she can see the lights are on does she wish she was back in a place where her problems didn’t exist. The sadness finds her all too easily and she doesn’t bother to do anything but walk behind the wall and look around at how empty everything is.

As a kid she used to wonder why her parents bothered with such a big estate that has the stupid brick wall barring them from actually being neighbors to anyone. The house, the barn, the pool, the hot tub, and all the empty space none of them ever bother to use. Even as she stands there it’s only her. Her parents are out of town per their usual and Melissa lives in London. It’s just her as she walks through the empty space and into the barn where everything is exactly as she left it.

She drops her bag on the floor as she walks towards the kitchen. _Wine_. She needs wine. If she’s going to exist in there she needs wine. Her phone goes off before she makes it towards the wine bottle she desires, all but jumping out of her own skin at the noise. That old habit is back and she really, really could do without it. Could do without all of this.

 **[ anonymous; 6:58 PM ]:** One, two, three. He’s yours. Maybe this one won’t leave you for someone better. **-** **A.D.**

Knowing that **A.D.** knows about her and Wren is the least surprising thing to happen to her. There’s a certain predictability to it that makes her think she would be more surprised if **A.D.** has no clue. The message does more than alert her to the fact that her little tryst with Wren is anything but a secret. She repeats the words in her mind over and over again. _Someone better_. Yvonne is better for a lot of reasons and Toby is happy. She’s happy he’s happy. It’s what he deserves knowing they did not manage to work out and never found their way back together. Hanna is _Hanna_.

The insecurity she feels with Hanna is new. It didn’t exist before she found herself falling with Caleb. Something that should have been a warning sign but wasn’t. It’s _Hanna_. She’s pretty and she’s blonde. She has boobs and a body that is more than just a straight shot down the line. She smiles so brightly and Spencer can’t. She just can’t smile lately. So much so she’s not entirely sure when it started. Months before she got to Rosewood, maybe years?

Some time between the son of the ambassador and Caleb, she guesses. Not that she put much into that... _relationship_ is a bad word for it. Sex is a better one. He was a distraction so she didn’t need to think about how much she really wanted Caleb. He was nice and they got on well. The sex was good until she got the letter from Alison, and everything fell apart as quickly as it started. She doesn’t mind. It’s not like he meant anything more than someone to warm her bed for a few hours. It’s just that if she knew she’d end up having less with Caleb maybe he’d warm her bed for a while longer.

She tries to decide what her and Caleb actually mean. She loves him but he doesn’t love her. The sting that comes with that causes her to let out a shaky breath. She is tired of being sad about it. Maybe it was just another form of sex. Maybe he was using her the way she used others. That makes it sadder and makes her far more stupid than she’s ever felt. It doesn’t matter in the end. Caleb got what he wanted and he’ll inevitably find his way back to Hanna. Spencer got what she wanted to a certain extent. If nothing else an attempt was made and it’s falling apart. It’s the only silver lining she can find.

It’s better than leaving the road untraveled.

Not as if she can even have any sort of moral high horse. She doesn’t. Caleb kissing Hanna isn’t the source of her pain. Maybe an anger that exists that will pass sooner than later. She won’t stay mad at Hanna forever, doesn’t even want to. Just for now. Probably not for long when she sees her. She covered for her with Wren and that’s something that almost clears the air between the two.

Their little secret.

Wren’s always been something of a secret. She doesn’t really know what to make of that but it’s the truth. It’s always so hidden away between the two of them. One time out in the open and Melissa found out anyway, along with Charlotte or Toby or whoever locked her in that damn shower. Even now, as she stares at the bottle of wine, he’s nothing more than a secret. Something that is for her only. It’s not that she minds. There’s something nice about having him that is just hers and hers alone. It’s just that the comfort she felt from him is gone and she misses it.

Misses _him_ if she’s being honest. Wren is always there when she needs him even when she’s being a bitch about it. That’s not unusual. When it comes to Wren she only uses him for her own gain and when she flew to London she can’t even say it was any different. He understands as he usually does but they crossed a line. A line that sits with her as she thinks about how good he felt and how content she feels standing there, like some part of her is sated for the time being.

 **[ Spencer; 7:03 PM ]:** I’m home. I didn’t want to wake you. I’ll call you tomorrow.

She sets her phone down on the counter then only to decide she doesn’t actually want the wine at all. She wants to sleep and forget so many things exist. She doesn’t know what that makes her, what _any_ of this makes her. Not when she’s finding a lost comfort in her sister’s ex-fiance. A man Melissa arguably knows better than Spencer does. Only Wren is good to her. He doesn’t push her to talk. He gives her nearly anything she wants when she wants it. The only thing that managed to hang between them was her own issues and confessions to him. Confessions he took in stride and only seemed to judge her minimally for. She’s not even entirely certain as to why she bothered to tell him either. Not as if things exist between them that makes her feel like she needs to.

There’s just a different sense between them that never existed between Caleb or Toby. She is able to sit there and be while he reads her. Happened from the first time they met and continues as she really thinks she wants to call him. She won’t. Not when it’s late in England and she disrupted his pattern as it is. There’s just still so much more she should tell him. So many secrets that make her Spencer. Secrets that a guy she slept with a few times doesn’t need to know and yet, she finds a worry overcome her that maybe he will hate her for more of her secrets.

She doesn’t know when she became someone who cares about what guys think of her. Maybe it was after Toby or after Caleb...the only two relationships in her life she would attach a serious label to. They both damaged her in ways she will never recover from and ways that will forever haunt her. When she and Toby broke up for good it was the right thing, but their relationship would always leave a scar. A scar permanently left behind from the reason they broke up in the first place. Maybe that is her punishment. Ridding them of a child they weren’t ready for. There’s no regret she feels but she doesn't feel regret for much anymore. Isn’t even that regretful over burying Rollins’ body. Karmic punishment feels real.

Her entire life seems to be some kind of karmic punishment. From the time she was fourteen she was doing stupid things that only ended up getting her in more trouble. Ian wasn't even the first mistake. He was just the first mistake in a line of many that make her the person she is today. In some way it seems like they all got exactly what they deserve.

Every day it feels like a new battle to get out of bed, to breathe, to shower, to eat, to do _anything_. What’s it all for? To get stalked by someone else? That part of her life she can do without. When it’s not being stalked it is getting those sympathetic looks from Aria and Emily, it is her parents asking too many questions she doesn’t know how to answer, not to mention the looks she gets from both Hanna and Caleb like they share something she’s unaware of.

She’s too aware of them.

The barn seems smaller the longer she stands there and looks around. She walks over to the bed and notices all the little things that are Caleb are gone. The closet is empty and the picture with that stupid little dog is on the bed. She picks it up as she sits and gets lost staring in it. In a way where she doesn’t know whether to cry at the gesture or smile at the memory. In the end, she does neither and simply puts it on the dresser. She’ll deal with it another time.

Everything in the barn will be dealt with later when she grabs her phone and bag before heading to the main house. It’s just her and she can use something that reminds her of the time she was a teenager over her messes made within the last month.

* * *

She’s confused when her eyes dart open and it’s still dark out. Nothing wakes her up. It’s as silent as ever and there’s no one around. It’s just her lying on the couch over making it upstairs to her bedroom. As good as a place any to sleep when she’s alone. It hits her that she hasn’t really slept alone since before got to Rosewood. A few nights Caleb slept on the couch before moving to her bed, she found herself in Wren’s bed shortly after, and it wasn’t until she forced herself back to Rosewood is she lying there alone.

 **[ Wren; 2:09 AM ]:** If you ever need another escape...

 **[ Spencer; 5:42 AM ]:** Don’t tempt me.

The temptation is real and true but she only ends up moving to take a shower upstairs. She sits in there way too long as she remembers the time she was locked in there. The **A** message on the mirror is clear in her mind and she hopes **A.D.** isn’t around to torture her in the same way. She really likes that shower and she doesn’t think Aria will randomly show up to rescue her. Out of all the ways to die naked in a shower is lowest on her list of preferred methods.

Her bedroom is as same as ever. The only time she’s bothered to spend any time there is during some vacations. The one where she actually went home. When it came to her and Melissa the barn went to whoever was there first. Most of the time it was her sister. It holds good memories and bad memories, but there’s something about it that reminds her too much of the dollhouse to spend any decent amount of time there. She just rummages through her closet before finding something decent worth wearing.

When she finally makes it downstairs she’s met with Hanna, Emily, Aria, and Alison sitting in her kitchen. That look which she shows judgement radiates off of nearly all of them. Except Hanna. Has that same look that she looks more like a look of pity and general sadness she doesn’t want to think about. Things are just weird between them and she’s glad that the other girls are there, even if they look like they are about to skin her alive.

“Where were you?” Alison asks the minute Spencer takes a seat at the island and reaches for the last coffee in the cup holder.

“Don’t say Melissa,” Aria adds on.

Spencer shoots a look at Hanna.

“I tried. They didn’t believe me.”

It does seem pretty foolish that she would go and see Melissa while all of this is going down. Her and Melissa are better in some ways and worse than others, but going to see her as everything is falling apart once against isn’t exactly on her list of priorities. She grabs a muffin and sets it down on the napkin while avoiding the gazes of everyone. She didn’t necessarily think about how she was going to explain everything with Wren. “I went to go see Wren.” Blurting it out is one way to go.

“What?” Emily asks before turning to Hanna. “And you knew? When we needed you the most,” she turns back to Spencer, “this isn’t time to worry about Caleb.”

“This was about, _Caleb_?” Alison presses with a roll of her eyes.

“No, yes, no...it’s complicated. It’s not that simple.” She takes a sip of her coffee as they all wait on her for an explanation.

“I kissed Caleb.” Hanna admits, causing everyone to turn on her. “Before it all happened. I kissed him and it meant... _nothing_. It was a mistake and Spencer has every right to be mad. So, don’t be mad at her.”

“Is that why you’ve been acting all weird?” Aria whispers as she leans over her. “You should have said something, Spence.”

“It’s not important.” That feels like a lie. It _is_ a lie. “It sucks but that’s not why I went to London. Not entirely. I needed an alibi so I made sure to purchase Rollns’ ticket and left his stuff on the train. I turned his phone off but I kept it before going to London. I went to Wren’s. Partially for an alibi partially to be a slut and feel better.” She swallows and takes another sip, more like a gulp, of her coffee. “I told him what happened with Rollins.”

“Spencer, please tell me you’re joking.” Alison cross her arms. “Do you just want to tell everyone? Why don’t we plaster a sign outside your house?”

Hanna’s expression turns into something more annoyance based, “You’re going to get us all arrested.”

“I told him because I trust him. He knows about... _everything_. Charlotte called him and told him a lot of things but he’s never said anything.”

“He broke up with Melissa because of it.” Hanna points out.

“He broke up with Melissa but he didn’t tell anyone otherwise my sister would be in jail right now.” Spencer defends a little harder than she probably needs to. “He’s never done anything to hurt us and he’s not going to start now.”

“I told Ezra.” Aria says after remaining quiet for a moment.

“Okay,” Emily shakes her head, “we’re not telling anyone else.”

“We should tell Caleb.” Spencer says quietly, looking at Hanna.

“I agree.” Hanna nods. “He’s more helpful if he knows.”

“Okay, no more.” Emily’s tone is firm. “We’re already in this mess.”

“There’s more.” She can feel the collective groan that doesn’t actually come out. “I gave him the phone to use to...throw them off of our trail. He’ll use it and it’ll make him seem like he’s in Europe.”

“Why didn’t you consult any of us?” Emily questions sharply. “You can’t mess with all of our lives.”

“I’m sorry.” It’s not all that genuine and she doesn’t care that it’s not. “I did what I did. If it all comes down to it you can all put the blame on me.” Not as if she hasn’t been arrested before.

“So, he agreed?” Hanna asks.

“He’s always had a soft spot for me.” She says the words to Hanna and Hanna alone. It’s bitchy and she’s only making tensions rise. The comment isn’t even that fair to Wren, who isn’t even there. None of it is fair. She doesn’t push the issue when Hanna glances down and Spencer takes a sip of her own coffee.

“Tanner is leading the investigation.” Alison breaks the silence and tension. “She’s been by a few times already. Probably ready to string us all up for the murder.”

“Probably.” Aria agrees as she sips her own coffee.

“We have to go.” Emily announces, standing. “If you guys hear anything just let us know. Don’t tell anyone else.”

“Got it.” Spencer agrees.

“Ezra is waiting for me.” Aria stands up next and doesn’t elaborate, only pressing a hand to Spencer’s shoulder. “Call me if you need anything.”

“Yeah, I will.” She whispers. It leaves her there with Hanna and she doesn’t really know what to do or say. “Thanks for covering for me or trying to.”

“Yeah, it was the least I could do.”

“Have you talked to Caleb?”

“No.” Hanna shakes her head. “We’re not really talking while everything is going down. He’s up at Toby’s cabin _not_ fishing.”

Spencer smiles at that. They like to not fish a lot.

“Why Wren? I didn’t even know you were into him.”

“Comfort.” She shrugs, giving the only explanation she can think of that is a truth but not too much of a truth. “He’s always there when I need someone. Never complains. Never questions. I kind of want Caleb to hurt, but I’m not going to tell him. If you want to tell him it’s fine. I know what I did to Caleb is worse than what you both did to me. He’ll come back from his trip and dump me. I’m ready. I’m ready now.”

“Spence, we…” She walks around the island and sits next to her. “You can make it work with him. He loves you. I was on the other side of that door, too.”

“No,” she shakes her head, swallowing everything down. “He loves _you_. I am a connection to you. I thought it was real and for me, it was. I love him but he doesn’t love me. I want to be loved. Actually, _truly_ loved. He’ll never give that to me and it’s stupid for us to even try. So I can look at Caleb every day and think about he loves someone else, and how he can look at me and pretend he loves me? It’s not fair. It’s not your fault, Hanna. You didn’t make him love you.”

“I’m still sorry. I shouldn’t have kissed him.”

“Hey,” she puts her hand over Hanna’s, letting out a light laugh, “I had sex with another guy. Always keeping it in perspective. I need to be the messiest. It’s pathological at this point.”

Hanna smiles in return. “I’m not going to tell him. It won’t do anything good for any of us.”

“I’m going to see Mary.”

“I have a meeting with Lucas.”

“How’s that going?”

“It’s going.” Hanna stands, not offering any more information. “Call me if you figure anything out.”

Spencer nods before sitting there and drinking the rest of her coffee. She cleans up the kitchen before walking out to the barn. The jacket she wants is there, unfortunately. Just walking into the barn and feeling Caleb without him even being there hits her a lot harder than she wants.

She doesn’t bother looking for the coat and instead pulls all of the sheets off and throws them onto the couch. Caleb didn’t leave much behind but anything he did find it’s way to the couch. The whole place looks more of a mess than usual but it’s fine. She needs some kind of cleanse. Bed sheets are about all she can do for the moment. She’ll wash it and find some new bedding. Put the old stuff away until she goes to D.C.

If she ever goes back to D.C. and she really doesn’t want to think about going back and having to deal with her apartment. Over the years he left more a mark there than a barn he only stayed in for a few weeks.

There’s only a brief moment before she decides she needs to drive out to the Lost Woods. Better to get her meeting with Mary over so she has more time to sulk about. It’s quite pathetic, really. There are a lot of things about her that are pathetic, yet she doesn’t bother much with those trains of thoughts.

She notices the way Mary seems truly fearful of Dunhill, Rollins, _whatever_ they are actually calling him now. She shouldn’t trust her. Not when she’s the spitting image of Jessica and that didn’t turn out so well. It’s just she doesn’t really seem as if she’s there to hurt them. If she knew he was dead she wouldn’t have to hole herself up. She was scared before she even knew it was Spencer. Or she’s cherry picking information so it can seem as positive as her mind is making it out to be.

She doesn’t know and things don’t really make much sense. Nothing makes any sense.

Only that **A.D.** is really out to get them.

* * *

She sleeps in the main house a second night in a row until she goes out to the barn to attempt to tidy the place up. She manages to put the sheets in the laundry basket and make it so it doesn’t look _entirely_ disheveled. The couch is free of sheets though, just the same as her bed. She hadn’t had the chance to talk to Wren the previous day and feels stupid the way she wants to call him. Even so much as hovering over his name.

There’s a knock at her door before it slightly opens. “Can I come in?”

“Yeah.” She says as she locks her phone. It beeps and she has the urge to check just to avoid him.

“You need to take that?”

“No. That’s alright.”

“I’m so sorry, Spencer.” Caleb begins, taking a seat on the couch next to her. “And you were right. I am confused. I never meant…”

“I know. Look, we both made mistakes. And I’m not saying that it’s okay. But I really don’t regret trying.”

“You don’t?”

She ignores the way in which it feels like he does. “When Toby and I broke up...I didn’t date anyone for a really, really long time. Nothing serious, anyways, you know, it’s just nothing ever _stuck_. Nothing ever measured up. It was like my...my heart had just stopped.” She was crying now, unable to help herself. “And I felt that way for a really long time...until you.”

“Oh, Spence…”

“No, it’s good. I’m saying, it’s a good thing. Okay, because I’ve, I hurt.” She chuckles sadly, something she is so used to now. “Believe me, I hurt. But I...I get to remember what felt like...to be in love again.” In some ways it’s worse. The silence is heavy between them. “I think you should probably go.”

“Okay.”

“Bye, Caleb.”

“Bye.”

The barn feels even more tainted than before after Caleb leaves. The only thing she does is grab her phone before moving to the main house. She’s glad her parents are still out of town so she can just be and not have to explain to them why she’s crying most of the time, and why she’s eating out of the fridge at all hours of the day.

She doesn’t need to hear about stupid salad from her mom any more times.

There’s no self control as she wipes her tears and plops down on the couch, hitting Wren’s name in her phone and praying he answers. “So, um,” she sniffles, swallowing as she tries to control herself, “I can’t even think of something witty or a reference to say. I’ll go with honesty and say I just wanted to hear your voice, which makes me _super_ pathetic and clingy.”

“I’ve never found you pathetic.” Wren answers after a brief silence. “You’re crying.”

“I’m not.”

“I can hear it, Spencer. What happened?”

“Caleb just dumped me.” She feels so small as she confesses. “It’s for the best. I just...feel _really_ alone. Not even like single alone because I’ve been single for so long. Just,” she lets out a breath, “like everyone has their lives and I have to this stupid house to myself with nothing to...exist for.”

“How long have you felt that way?”

“Don’t shrink me.”

“I’m not a shrink.”

Spencer rolls her eyes. “You’re a shrink even if you medicate people over talking to them. You’re a shrink.”

“Let us say I am a shrink you need someone to talk to.” Wren tells her softly, actually trying to help her. “You aren’t alone Spencer. I know things are rocky between you and Hanna, but you have her. Your other friends. _Me_.”

“You’re an ocean away.”

“We have phones.”

Spencer wipes the last of her tears away. “I hate to ask things of you.”

“Consider it done, Spencer.”

“Wren?” She asks after a moment of silence. Not yet willing to hang up.

“Yes?”

“I’m not using you. I know this is messy and complicated, but you’re not just a tool. I love Caleb.” She pauses and does her best to keep herself together. “I’m sorry that sounds so mean. Probably shouldn’t tell the guy you slept with you love someone. I did enjoy being with you in London.”

“I know.”

“You always say that but I don’t believe you.”

“I’m not here to complicate your life. You know where to find me if you want more than just a stolen night to piss off your boyfriend.”

“Wow,” the sarcastic tone is clear, “you make me sound great.”

“It wasn’t a criticism,” Wren tells her. “It’s the truth.”

“Wren?”

“Yes, Spencer?”

“Thank you.”

“Always.”

As much as she wants to sit there and sulk all day she knows she can’t. She can’t let herself fall down some rabbit hole that will be hard to pull herself out of. She needs to make sure that they are all doing their civic duty and making sure that Rollins stays buried. _Figuratively_. His dead body isn’t going anywhere no matter how paranoid Hanna is about it all. Dead people do not get up and walk out of graves. Makeshift graves, at that.

This just cannot turn into one of the things that **A.D.** holds over them. The simple decision would be for them to stop making mistakes but she doesn’t think that is going to happen anytime soon.

They always end up back in Rosewood hell.

She figures she looks like crap but doesn’t care that much as she makes her way next door. She’s surprised when she sees Jason sitting on the steps. She thought he was still out of town but that’s clearly not the case as he’s there with his too long hair and looking out as clouds overcast the sky. Fitting to her mood. She swallows and takes a deep breath so she can at least pretend to look and feel okay as she ends up coming into his line of sight.

“What’s wrong?” Jason asks after a moment of looking at her.

“Nothing.” She shrugs and takes a seat next to him. The plan was to see Alison but Jason isn’t mad at her the way Alison is.

“I’m your brother, Spence. I think after five years you’d get that.”

She does get it and she’s actually grateful to have a brother when she’s so used to have Melissa. “More like seven years.”

“Yeah, but we got along better after Charlotte.”

“We did.” She agrees and is glad that there’s no waring of the families. Jason is obviously a sore spot for both of her parents but not for her. She feels closer to Jason than she does any other family members. Sometimes she wonders what it’d of been like if she had always known that Jason was her brother. Lots of fighting, she presumes. She lets out a shaky breath. “Caleb dumped me and he’s probably going back to Hanna.” She doesn’t dare look at him. Only looks at her shoes and tries to distract herself. More tears are not good for anyone.

“Want me to beat him up for you?”

Spencer laughs. “It’s fine. He can be my one super bad idea.”

“What about Ian?”

“You knew about that?” She gasps at him.

“The tapes.”

“Oh, right.” Just something on a long list of things she’s forgotten about. “Ian and Caleb don’t really compare.”

“I’d hope not.” Jason replies. “Then I’d really have to beat him up.”

“You have Jesus hair and I know Jesus would not approve.”

“When was the last time you even went to church?”

“Charlotte’s funeral.”

“Missed that one.” Jason turns to her, a tone shift hitting them just at the mention of Charlotte. “You okay? I know it’s been a long road.”

“I’m still sober.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

Spencer shakes her head and looks away from him. “I thought I would feel better. At the funeral I thought she’s dead. She can’t hurt us but…” she trails off, “but I still cannot get past some of the things she did to us. Alison loved her so much what was I gonna do? Now everything is just so fucked up.”

“Yeah, it’s always like that.” Jason comments, not elaborating. “I’m going to a meeting later if you want to come.”

“Got nothing better to do.” Spencer stands. She needs to get the conversation with Ali over with. “I’m going to go talk to Ali before she makes a voodoo doll and I end up dead in the street.”

“I think she’s working on a Rollins one right now. If you hurry you can beat her.”

Spencer lets out a soft laugh as she walks up the steps and into the house, finding Alison in the kitchen staring into nothingness. She doesn’t really know what she’s going through but it’s definitely a lot. She feels guilty and knows they shouldn’t have been so quick to make it so Alison killed Charlotte. It was just a messy situation all around.

It’s not as if they could pick between Hanna or Alison. Well, Caleb could and _did_ but it doesn’t matter much anyway. She doesn’t think either of them particularly like one another. Can’t blame Alison too much. She’s always had good instincts.

“I shouldn’t have left,” Spencer states as she takes a seat at the counter, “I know that. You can be mad at me all you want.”

“Good because I am.” Alison cuts in, her tone as sharp and Ali as ever.

“I’m trying to make it right now. Wren’s going to make it so it seems like he’s in Europe”

“And what about Wren? Trace to him then you then me. Tanner wants us all strung up.”

“I trust him.”

Alison rolls her eyes. “I don’t.”

“I meant it when I said I would take the fall. I have the least to lose.”

“I’m not much better than you.”

“You know,” Spencer begins, trying to cut some of the tension coming off the both of them in waves, “When I was in Radley I had this hallucination. We danced to I’m Your Puppet. I must still have that record somewhere, _yours_ , you left it there. Left a lot of stuff I could never get rid of.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

Spencer shrugs as there’s not a real answer to why she’s telling Alison. Just that she can relate to the feeling of being in Welby. Only Radley was far weirder, only Alison’s torture is different from her own. “When I was at my lowest and my craziest stuck inside Radley it was you I thought of. Almost as if you were the only one who could give me answers when I had no one to turn to, when I didn’t _want_ to turn to anyone at all.”

“What happened?”

“You guided me towards the visitor passes Wren authorized. He found me, I asked him about it, and then he took me back to my room.”

“Too bad that never got us any closer to Charlotte.”

“Nothing really ever did.” It’s a sad truth. She tries not to think about it since it’s usually on her list of failures. Charlotte really did outsmart them all over and over again. If she didn’t want to end the game there’s no saying the game would even be over.

Alison remains calm and unmoved for a moment, before her gaze finally shifts to Spencer. “Want some coffee?”

“Yeah, I do.”

* * *

Spencer’s never more grateful for the mundane than when it gives her a few days to just _be_. Alison and Emily finish out their work week. The cops tell them about the call before finding they don’t have too much information to go on until wait for things to come from Europe. They didn’t tell her that much but she believes Wren when he says it’s handled.

Being an adult and the others having careers they need to attend to finally allows her to sulk around her house.

She doesn’t want to spend too much time being miserable but the two days she gets to do it without interruption are perfect. She eats terribly, watches too many sad movies and others that are just plain bad, and cleans out the freezer of any and all ice cream.

It’s on the third day she actually manages to shower and feel like herself again. She puts on real clothes and eats an apple from the bowl on the counter. The apple is about to go bad since it’s just her living there but it’s a step in the right direction so she’s taking it.

Hanna’s texted her a few times checking on her and she’s grateful for that. She doesn’t reply but she thinks it’s nice that through everything their friendship isn’t permanently broken. Losing Hanna would be way worse than losing Caleb. Still, it takes her all day to actually find the courage to text Hanna back.

They end up at the park once the sun has set, sitting on the swings as if they are kids. The beer they are sharing makes it so they aren’t kids, though. It’s not really a place for Spencer to go. She does it so rarely but it seems fitting. She wants to make sure things are right with Hanna. She misses her. If nothing else she just _misses_ Hanna. Things have been awkward for weeks since they stepped foot in Rosewood. Caleb isn’t worth destroying that over. She wants them both to be happy and she almost wishes she could just be some petty bitch who wants them both to be anything but happy. Didn’t even have the courage to our her little tryst with Wren to Caleb. Only made it so that he was free to move on with his life and she was the one in pain.

She’s always known friendship is more important than who any of them are dating. Even if things have fallen apart when they all went off to college. That’s natural. It’s not natural for them all to be walking on eggshells around each other while they deal with the mess that **A.D.** brings into their lives. They are stronger together.

It’s nice as they swing. Hanna tells her about breaking up with Jordan. Spencer assures her she’ll be fine, even encourages her to tell Caleb. She kind of wonders where that other part comes from but she doesn’t worry about it. Not when she truly thinks Hanna and Caleb deserve each other. In a true sense. Not that bitter sense. No sense in being with someone who you don’t love. Just like Caleb doesn’t love her. Hanna doesn’t love Jordan.

“I want to help you in the way you help me.” Hanna eventually says after they’ve run out of awkward subjects to talk about.

Spencer has no idea what that means and even looks at her with an entirely too puzzled expression on her face. She’s not used to being the confused one. “What?”

“Look.”

“Where?”

“ _Ohmygod_ , Spencer.” Hanna lets out a huff and twists her swing in the opposite direction. “I’m supposed to be the dense one.”

When Spencer lays her eyes on Wren she doesn’t know what to do with herself. She’s dumbfounded. Questions herself as to why she didn’t bother to think he would ever show up. “You didn’t...” she murmurs just barely, looking at Hanna for brief moment, only to shift back to Wren.

“Look, I know he’s not your true love soulmate or whatever, but if he can make you happy for a few days with tons of breakup sex then just let him. I just can’t stand to see you sad knowing I did this to you.” She explains as she settles herself on her own swing, “You already hooked up so I know you’re not against it.” When Spencer still doesn’t move she gently kicks the swing. “ _Go_.”

Spencer doesn’t even know what to say so she doesn’t. Just lets a soft smile come across her lips as she walks over to Wren. There’s only one thing she can think to do and that’s hug him, burying herself in him as if being there in that moment will solve all her problems. It won’t solve anything but she doesn’t care. “I can’t believe you’re here.”

“Shitty London.”

“Yeah,” she whispers, looking at him. “Shitty London.” She thinks it’s bad idea to kiss him but she does it anyway. Her hands cup his face and he kisses her back with such an ease it feels good. He’s always been someone she likes to kiss. The phone ringing brings her away from the fact that it’s not just them and Hanna is standing behind her. “Is that yours?” She asks Hanna as she grips Wren’s hand loosely, dragging him back to the swings.

“No.” Hanna tells Spencer as she moves to grab the phone from her bag. “It’s Rollins’.”

“I thought you gave me his phone.” Wren interjects while looking between the pair.

“I gave you his phone. This is his burner phone.”

“First your turn her in then you leave her alone. Stupid bitches.” The voice that comes through the phone sounds a hell of a lot like Rollins.

Spencer actually begins to think Hanna may actually be right. If he’s not dead though, he’s going after Ali. “Call Ali, Hanna. _Now_.”

They call to warn Alison but Spencer feels like something’s not right. She barely focuses that Wren is there with them as she drives down to her house. Doesn’t even think of how to explain when they all go through her house and see she’s upstairs. Spencer immediately moves to Alison’s side, seeing that she’s injured. Nothing makes any sense. She saw Rollin die. She buried the body herself. There’s no way he crawled out of the grave and is now trying to hunt Alison down to kill her. It just doesn’t add up. Even with **A.D.** it just doesn’t add up.

“Oh god, you’re hurt.” She whispers and strokes Alison’s cheek, Hanna moving to her opposite side. She clings onto Alison and the immense guilt of everything is weighing down on her. They need to keep her safe. They failed her before.

“I’m okay.” Alison reassures before glancing between Spencer and Wren. “Spencer, what is he doing here?”

“Wren, Alison. Alison, Wren.” She introduces casually. Everything happened in such a fit she didn’t have time to separate them and his presence when they get the phone calls means he is aware. She looks back at him and wonders how many questions he has. If Rollins is still actually alive they all made a mess of things even more. She made him make a bigger mess all for her own gain, knowing he would not say no to her.

Wren leans in the doorway with his arms crossed against his chest as Alison tells them all what happened. They cannot speak as freely as they want with the cops right downstairs. The last thing any of them need is hearing them say something suspicious. When the cops clearout so do they, ending up walking over to her house. Emily promises to stay with Alison. It doesn’t make her think either of them are actually safe.

“We need to see if his body is there.” Hanna states, looking over at Spencer as they make their way into her backyard.

“That’s a bad idea.”

“Look, Spence, we have to know. _I_ have to know. I’ll do it whether you’re coming or not.”

Before Spencer has a chance to say something Wren interrupts. “You two need to explain to me what the hell is going on.”

Spencer looks at Hanna before looking at Wren. It’s a little late to ask for permission.

“You explain.” Hanna nods. “I’m going to go find some clothes I can steal from you for this.”

She’s not really sure when her relationship with Wren went from casual to this serious. It _is_ serious. Serious the moment she got on the plane and asked the favor from him. Serious when Hanna called him and asked him to come. Serious as she takes off her coat and puts it on the arm of the couch. He heard about **A.D.** on the phone and she has to tell him, but it seems to foolish to.

She trusts him. Trusts him so much she told him one of her darker secrets. Burying a body is nothing to be proud of. She’s not proud. Not with how this is all unfolding. Not exactly regretful but not proud either.

Everyone knows about Charlotte. Especially Wren. But had he not had contact with Charlotte as it were it was all over every paper and news outlet for months. Her first semester at Georgetown was interesting because of it.

“It’s happening again.” Is all she can manage to say as she sits right on top of her jacket. “It’s not just Rollins. It’s the messages, the threats, the pictures, the videos, _whatever_. It’s someone who is avenging Charlotte and I just can’t help but wonder who could give a shit that crazy bitch is dead?” She laughs in disbelief at that last part before getting out her phone, handing it to him. “You can read them.”

Wren doesn’t speak and simply takes the phone, scrolling through the anonymous messages she’s kept. “I’m surprised you’re telling me this. Mona and Charlotte were never all that reserved about their past torment towards you and your friends. I’m just surprised it’s coming from you.”

“Yeah, well,” she lets out a sigh as she takes the phone back, “I think if you’re going to know about Rollins it’s stupid to not have you know about everything else. I haven’t learned a lot considering I buried a body, but I can’t protect you if I can’t even protect myself.”

“I don’t need you to protect me.”

“I wish that was true.” She swallows down the worry she has knowing just how much danger she’s put Wren in. Not just with all of this but the fact that he actually has a stable life and career. It’s nice seeing him standing there but part of her wishes Hanna never called. “If this is too much I won’t hold it against you for leaving.”

“I’m not leaving unless you want me to.”

Spencer just smiles, softly, barely, knowing the act of verbally asking him to stay is a lot. “I’ve been staying in here. My parents are on a cruise and Melissa is in London. I told Alison you’d be here if anything happens.”

“Be careful.”

“I will.”


End file.
